I
replied.

"I'm sure I don't know any thing about that," was returned. "He is a
generous fellow, and I cannot but like him. Indeed, every one likes
him."

A few evenings afterwards I met Peyton again.

"Come, let us have some oysters," said he.

I did not object. We went to an oyster-house, and ate and drank as much
as our appetites craved. He paid the bill!

Same days afterwards, I fell in with him again, and, in order to
retaliate a little, invited him to go and get some refreshments with
me. He consented. When I put my hand in my pocket to pay for them, his
hand went into his. But I was too quick for him. He seemed uneasy about
it. He could feel pleased while giving, but it evidently worried him to
be the recipient.

From that time, for some years, I was intimate with the young man. I
found that he set no true value upon money. He spent it freely with
every one; and every one spoke well of him. "What a generous,
whole-souled fellow he is!" or, "What a noble heart he has!" were the
expressions constantly made in regard to him. While "Mean fellow!"
"Miserly dog!" and other such epithets, were unsparingly used in
speaking of a quiet, thoughtful young man, named Merwin, who was clerk
with him in the same store. Merwin appeared to set an undue value upon
money. He rarely indulged himself in any way, and it was with
difficulty that he could ever be induced to join in any pleasures that
involved expense. But I always observed that when he did so, he was
exact about paying his proportion.

About two years after my acquaintance with Peyton began, an incident
let me deeper into the character and quality of his generosity. I
called one day at the house of a poor widow woman who washed for me, to
ask her to do up some clothes, extra to the usual weekly washing. I
thought she looked as if she were in trouble about something, and said
so to her.

"It's very hard, at best," she replied, "for a poor woman, with three
or four children to provide for, to get along--especially if, like me,
she has to depend upon washing and ironing for a living. But when so
many neglect to pay her regularly"--

"Neglect to pay their washerwoman!" I said, in a tone of surprise,
interrupting her.

"Oh, yes. Many do that!"

"Who?"

"Dashing young men, who spend their money freely, are too apt to
neglect these little matters, as they call them."

"And do young men, for whom you work, really neglect to pay you?"

"Some do. There are at